To Be With You
by AMuggleStudent
Summary: Tonks has confessed her love to Remus in front of everybody assembled in the Hospital Wing. As she goes into the night, she fears she has lost him forever...but is wrong. HBP missing scenes from Tonks pov.
1. Chapter 1

Nobody says anything much when the door has fallen shut behind McGonagall and Harry. They all seem lost in their own thoughts, in my case I watch Fleur attending to Bill's wounds. How I envy her for being able to do just that, for the man she loves. Fleur can be insensitive and more than a little annoying at times, but she's real, and I'm grateful she has proven it. Although Molly still looks flabbergasted by the realisation that Fleur is a decent human being after all. Meanwhile, Remus has retreated to one of the windows and stares outside into the dark. Merlin knows what's going on in this complicated head of his, but I don't regret what I've just said. Let him be embarrassed, I just couldn't hold it back, not when we so nearly got killed and will likely be killed anytime soon, because Dumbledore is dead and we're in a bloody mess. All these months, waiting for news of his death without having spoken to him again, have worn me out. Now he's here, just across the room, but he could just as well be at the other end of the country as far as our relationship is concerned. I just wish he would speak to me, _look _at me. Not shy away as soon as we've finished whatever Order business still occasionally brings us together.

I look up and see Ginny watching me watching him. She's a clever girl, Ginny. I'm glad Harry finally understood that much. This room is slowly suffocating me.

'Just going for a short stroll,' I murmur and walk out of the hospital wing into the dark corridor. It's dead silent, but the noise of the battle still rings in my head. That was a narrow escape we had there, and when this Killing Curse shot Remus's way, there was a split second when I thought it's over. But how many more curses will he be able to dodge, or I for that matter, before our chances are gone for good to have some time left together? He's one of the most intelligent people I know, and at the same time one of the most stubbornly stupid.

I sit down against the rough stone wall and wrap my cloak around me. The enormity of Albus Dumbledore's murder has not sunk into my brain yet, not really. Let alone that Snape did it, the greasy git.

There's the sound of the door opening and light steps approaching.

'Are you ok?', Ginny asks and squats down beside me.

'No, I guess I'm not,' I try to fake light-heartedness and fail, 'but then, who is after what has just happened?'

'With Dumbledore dead, I guess nobody, but apart from that I'm glad we finally know what's been wrong with you. We thought it was Sirius.'

'What?!'

'Well, Hermione, Harry, Ron and I have been wondering why you've been so down and thought that maybe you had fancied Sirius before he died.'

'Merlin's pants!' I snort involuntarily, 'he's my cousin!'

'Sure, but your hair and all, it coincided with Sirius's death, and then he's always been a bit of a looker.'

'So you naturally thought I must have fallen for him…,' I say slowly, trying to reconstruct the past year from the perspective of a teenage brain, it had never occurred to me that this is what they could have thought. I'm not angry. After all, even Remus thought I had a crush on Sirius.

'Well, yes, maybe,' Ginny admits sheepishly, 'but I'm glad we were wrong. Not only because Sirius is dead. I liked him, but Remus is the nicer man.'

'That's sweet of you to say. I know Remus isn't the most obvious romantic choice…but he is to me.'

'And has he...,' Ginny asks tentatively, 'has he ever shown any feelings in return?'

'Yes. Well, no, not openly, but...I think he loves me, too. I've seen it when he thought I wasn't aware of it.'

Like when he watched me at Order meetings even when I wasn't speaking. When he seemed more alive even on the dullest watch with me than anytime I saw him at Grimmauld Place, except maybe for the few evenings of drinks we spent there together with Sirius. Or when I briefly woke up in St Mungo's, after the battle in the Department of Mysteries, and found him sitting asleep next to my bed, although he later never mentioned that he'd been there. I don't know who he's kidding, but not me.

'He definitely didn't look well at all during Christmas,' Ginny muses, 'have you really told him a million times?'

'It feels about that much.'

We sit in silence for a while, I don't really feel like talking, but I'm glad she's there.

'Ginny? Tonks?' Molly peeks around the door into the dark corridor, sounding worried.

'We're here, Mum!'

'Oh, good! We were just saying that the children should better return to their dormitories now. I'll go to the Common Room with you, Ron, and Hermione, Remus accompanies Luna to Ravenclaw Tower. I think it's best that nobody wanders the corridors alone tonight.'

'We're still in Hogwarts, Mum!' Ginny points out, getting up, but I can hear she doesn't sound so sure after all. And who can blame her, after what she has just witnessed. During my time here, the worst thing you could stumble upon in a corridor was your crush kissing somebody else, not a bunch of Death Eaters set out to kill the headmaster. Ginny hugs me goodnight and I listen as they all walk away talking in subdued voices.

Strangely enough, I suddenly wish Mad-Eye was here. Has anybody even got in touch with him? Especially as I guess it will be him leading the Order now, he had better start thinking. I cast my Patronus and the silvery wolf bounds along the corridor in a blaze of light. I know Remus is bitter about his Patronus form, but every time I see it, I can at least feel close to him.

Dumbledore's death will likely pull the rug out from under his feet. He did everything Dumbledore asked him to do. Nobody can tell me Dumbledore wasn't thinking of Remus when he asked for a spy among the werewolves in that horrible meeting back in last summer, but the readiness with which Remus volunteered surprised even Albus, I think. Don't know if Dumbledore was suspecting anything about Remus's underlying motivation to get away from me, but to Dumbledore's credit it seemed he was both glad to have found his spy and concerned about him. But then, maybe that was because he knew about Greyback. Now that I've seen Greyback, it's beyond me that they could let Remus of all people go and expose himself to that beast again!

On the other hand, it illustrates Remus's determination to avoid me. He was white as chalk in that meeting, after having agreed to the werewolf mission, but wouldn't hear a word of doubt. Just like now, in fact. I wonder what he'll do next, which suicide mission he'll agree to next, until he can finally get himself killed somewhere and doesn't have to see me anymore, assuming that I'll be free to be happy again when he's no longer around.

For the next quarter of an hour or so, my thoughts drift back and forth between images of tonight's fight and Dumbledore falling of a tower, of Remus bleeding to death in some wood and memories of the good moments we had together as friends, now shining golden from a past that won't come back. Warming up in a pub after a cold watch outside, casually asking questions about each other. Cheering up Sirius by prompting him to tell stories of their school days until late in the night. At which point I was invited to kip on the sofa in Grimmauld Place, and then Remus made breakfast the next morning. And then this one, memorable morning when I passed by headquarters early on my way to work, because I had forgotten some documents at a meeting two days before, and found Remus sitting alone in the kitchen, looking like death itself, insisting he was fine while clutching his tea. Turned out it had been a full moon the night before and he was mustering the strength to go all the way up to his room to rest. At first, he didn't want to accept my offer to walk upstairs together, I think he wanted to avoid that I see him in this state, but finally he agreed and leaned on my shoulder and I remember how right my arm around his waist felt. It was the first time our bodies touched for longer than just a greeting hug, and it changed something between us.

Hurried steps echo on the floor as someone approaches the hospital wing, the light from inside for a moment illuminates Minerva McGonagall's frame in the door, so I better get back.

'I've just spoken with the Minister and his delegation, the decision if Hogwarts is to remain open will lie with the governors, but at the moment it looks likely,' she says gravely. 'Of course, parents who will want their children home immediately can come and fetch them, but we have decided that the Hogwarts Express is to return only the day after Dumbledore's funeral, which will take place here, on the Hogwarts grounds.'

'Very good.' Remus says, and Molly and Arthur nod in agreement.

'I have asked the Heads of Houses to inform their students about the situation at present, Horace Slughorn agreed to talk to the Slytherins,' she shudders, 'which is why I must proceed to Gryffindor Tower myself now. I hope for a word with you tomorrow morning though. There will be rooms ready for you in the second floor above the kitchen in a short moment. I thought it best to avoid staying in Hogsmeade, where the news is bound to spread as we speak.'

'Thank you very much, Minerva,' Arthur says, and Remus adds 'If there's anything we can do to help you, let us know.'

With an appreciative nod in his direction, Minerva says goodbye and leaves. I really don't fancy being in her shoes right now, explaining to a crowd of kids in their pyjamas that Albus Dumbledore has been murdered by one of their teachers.

'I will not move from Bill's zide tonight!', Fleur declares and defiantly looks around.

Molly frowns. 'It isn't common practice to stay in the hospital wing as a visitor, as far as I remember...'

'I don't care about your practice, my husband 'as been injured and I am az good az his wife, so I ask to stay with him.'

To everyone's surprise, Madam Pomfrey makes a dismissive gesture and indicates the bed next to Bill.

'Very well then, you can stay for this night, given that there aren't more patients apart from Mr Longbottom, but it is an exception for this night only!'

Probably a wise move on her part, who wants to lose energy arguing with Fleur the night Dumbledore has died. And yet, how I envy Fleur...

Molly, Arthur, Remus and I file out of the hospital wing and walk towards the indicated rooms in silence. Remus leads the way, the light from his wand illuminating the floor and walls ahead of us. Most paintings are empty, but a group of witches and knights stands whispering nervously with each other in a lakeside panorama. I look away and instead watch the silhouette of Remus's back, feeling that I need to absorb his physical presence before I won't see him again for months, or forever.

'Here we are,' he finally says and indicates three doors in a row.

'Well then, have as good a night as can be. See you in the morning.' Arthur sighs and he and Molly disappear in the room on the left. Which suddenly leaves Remus and I alone together for the first time in probably a year. This is going to be awkward. Before I can think of anything to say, Remus speaks first.

'Tonks, I know I owe you a conversation…but not tonight. It's been too much. Dumbledore is dead and I can't think straight.'

'That's fine,' I hear myself saying, 'good night.'

I trot to the door on the far right and feel unspeakably alone.

_**A/N:** This is my second ever fanfiction and I'm very grateful for reviews!_


	2. Chapter 2

The room is bare except for a large four-poster bed, but there's a friendly fire crackling in the fireplace and a small table has been laid with a dinner of what seems to be hot tomato soup. Hogwarts has always been welcoming, but tonight I feel a complete stranger within its walls. The clanking of the spoon against the bowl echoes in the lonely room and I can't finish it. Mechanically, I throw off my robes and boots, crawl under the cold bedcover and fall into a light doze, with uneasy images flickering around in my head. At some point, I must have fallen into something more resembling sleep, because I wake up needing the bathroom. The fire has gone out and the room is completely dark. Groping for my wand on the bedside table I feel it just touch my fingers before it clatters on the floor. Glad Mad-Eye isn't here to watch this. Swearing, I step into the direction where I've heard the wand roll, but tread on something on the floor that has me tripping. I stumble, my left arm finds the back of a chair - and overturns it, then I make contact with the table, something smashes on the floor, then I send myself sprawling. Before I can do as much as curse myself, the door bursts open and the fire suddenly blazes up again, illuminating Remus, wand raised, looking wildly around the room. In a second, he's crouching down beside me, my head in his hands.

'What is it, Tonks? Speak to me!'

'M'fine', I mumble, 'I tripped. Tonks classic.'

'You're bleeding!'

'What?'

Propping myself up, I check the red stains on my face and arms.

'Oh…no, I think that's tomato soup.'

Under different circumstances, this would have been hilarious. But not when the other's fear is as real as I've just seen it in his face. Getting up, I rub my hip where it made painful contact with the stone floor, and notice that Remus is fully dressed.

'You haven't slept at all?'

'No.'

I spot my wand under the table and quickly clear up the little mess I've created.

'I haven't slept so well, either' I say, sitting down on the bed and searching for more stains on my T-shirt. Remus still stands there and watches me uncertainly. All of a sudden, I feel I can't bear this gaze of his any longer, as if I was a problem to be solved, so I close my eyes and give my face a good and thorough rub. To my utter surprise, I suddenly feel the mattress sag and, looking up, find that Remus has sat down next to me on the edge of the bed.

'About what you said earlier…in the hospital wing,' he starts in a low voice, 'I don't know how to make you understand that what is happening for Bill and Fleur cannot happen for me…for us.'

He is looking at the floor as he speaks.

'Bill will in all likelihood be able to continue a normal life, whereas you know that I cannot offer you anything of the sort, ever.'

'Remus, if you could just stop being noble about this…What if I didn't want a normal life? What if I wanted only you?' I ask quietly.

He swallows.

'You don't understand. I'm not being noble, I'm...terrified of the extent of misery I could bring upon the person I love.'

There. He's said it. Yet why is my heart still frightened?

Remus almost doubles over, again pressing his face into his hands, and continues in a strained voice:

'My parents have had to sacrifice everything for my sake. Their life could have been a very different, happier one without a werewolf son. The impact that my condition has upon a family is very real, Tonks, I've seen it. And I don't wish it upon anyone else. How could I ever forgive myself for knowingly leading you into a life that is bound to make you, sooner or later, deeply unhappy?'

He wants to go on, but I grab his wrists with both hands and force his haunted eyes to look at me. While I'd like to shout at him, I try to be as gentle as I can.

'Is it so hard for you to believe that you're worthy of being loved, even if it means sacrifice?'

He first stares at me, then his features contort and I quickly let go of his wrists when I realise that he's crying.

So this is it, the raw spot.

As he is shaking with silent sobs, I briefly wonder if he's right after all and I'm wrong, that werewolf marriages are doomed, but all I can see next to me is a devastated man, not a monster. A man who, I slowly realise, hasn't refused to be with me out of gallantry, but out of blank despair. As I feel tears rise into my eyes, I fling my arms around him and rest my head against his trembling shoulder. He is shaking even harder, but after a while, I feel him breathe more calmly, until he eventually fumbles in his pocket for a handkerchief and dries his face.

'I'm sorry,' he mutters, glancing at me out of red eyes.

'Come on, Remus…,' I keep stroking his back, 'you're entitled to some crying from time to time...'

He takes my free hand and shyly holds it in both of his, contemplating it for a moment, then he says:

'It isn't something I've come across very often in my life…people who see me that way. Also, the few who do keep dying on a regular basis, which isn't encouraging, either.'

'But I'm here. And alive.'

'Yes, you are,' he finally looks at me, an expression of utter amazement on his face that almost makes me laugh.

And this is the moment when I lean in and kiss him on the lips. For a moment, it's as if someone has cast a Body-Bind Curse at him, then he relaxes a little and, ever so softly, kisses me back.

When we look at each other again, he seems punch-drunk.

'How about not being alone for the rest of the night?' I ask, lightly tapping the bed cover. An uncomfortable expression appears on his face.

'Don't you think this is...a bit too fast, and with Dumbledore having just died...' he stammers.

'I said 'not alone', Remus. No sex, you can keep all your clothes on, but I'd really be grateful not to be alone. This bed -,' I indicate the four-poster, 'looks big enough to me for two people not touching.'

'You make it sound as if I was a prudish old maid…' He sounds mildly indignant.

'And this from the man who for one year treated me as if I had fallen into Dung Bombs!'

I meant to say it as a joke but am startled myself by how earnestly it has come out.

'I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you.' Remus says quietly and I don't know what to reply. He strokes a strand of hair behind my ear.

'Is this your natural hair colour then?'

I nod. 'Awful, isn't it?'

'No,' he shakes his head. 'Nothing about you is awful.'

'Now, before more evidence suggests that this isn't really Remus Lupin I'm talking to, but some creepy impersonator, I'll follow my original intention to go to the bathroom, and then to bed. Where I hope I will find you, whether within morally prescribed distance or not.'

The first thing I see upon my return to the dim room are Remus's tattered robes hanging tidily over one of the chairs, then I distinguish his shape under the blanket. My stomach turned into a joyous knot, I creep into the bed as well.

'You asleep already?' I whisper.

'No.' He turns, his face now only inches from my own, and starts to gently stroke my hair. Which I take as an invitation and snuggle up to him, thankfully finding that he's fine with it. We don't say anything, the novelty of the situation is a bit overwhelming. As far as I'm concerned, I could stay like this forever, with my face in his hair, feeling his breathing slow against the skin of my arm. If Hogwarts burns down tonight, I won't care.

At some point I wonder if he's fallen asleep already and carefully move my right arm which has gone a bit dead.

'I've always wondered what it would feel like.' Remus mumbles sleepily.

'What do you mean?'

'This. Cuddling.'

'You've never been with _anyone_?'

'Not like this, no... Do you mind?'

'Stop worrying,' I nestle against him with my last powers of consciousness, 'now that I come to think of it I'm glad to hear you haven't bedded 40 Veelas yet...'

I can feel he's smiling as we both drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When I wake up, it's already light and the bed next to me is empty. I sit upright with a jolt. Remus is at the window, dressed already, and looks out into an exceptionally fine summer morning. Now he turns to me and for a moment, his face is alight with tenderness.

'Morning', I mutter.

Getting up has never been my strong point, and this night was particularly short. Bet I look like a banshee.

'Good morning. Would you like some tea?'

He's busying himself at the table and squinting over, I discover that yesterday's soup has been replaced by a tray with tea and toast.

'Tea, thanks. Where did you get it from?'

Remus shrugs and carries over a mug.

'It was there this morning.'

'With two mugs?'

'Yes. The houseelves are quite astute, you know' he says.

For a moment it looks like he's about to sit down on the bed with me, but then he thinks otherwise and paces around the table as I sip my tea. I'm a little confused, but my head is too heavy still to think properly.

'What's the time? And has there been any news of anything?'

'It's around seven. No news, but I thought about going to the hospital wing to see how Bill and Neville are doing.'

'Mmh, sounds good. Give me 10 min?'

Right as we leave the room together, another door opens and produces Molly and Arthur, obviously headed for the same direction. Remus blushes slightly when we wish each other good morning, but Molly beams at me behind his back and I can't help winking at her with a grin.

Both Bill and Neville are awake when we enter the hospital wing, so we mutely decide to allow the Weasleys some family time.

'How are you, Neville?' Remus asks and pulls up two chairs.

'I feel fine, thank you, Professor Lupin. Madam Pomfrey says I'll be discharged later today.'

'I'm very glad to hear that. You did incredibly well yesterday.'

'Thank you, Professor. We were lucky though. And I'm sorry about Ron's brother...,' he nods in Bill's direction, then he lowers his voice, his expression urgent.

'Is it true? Snape killed Professor Dumbledore? Madam Pomfrey says she can't tell me more.'

'It's true,' Remus says, 'when he came running with Draco Malfoy, he had just killed him. Harry saw it happen.'

'And we didn't stop him,' Neville whispers, looking pale. 'He ran right past me.'

'You didn't know what he had done and thought he was on our side, just as we all did. Do not blame yourself, Neville.'

'And now, is he -?'

'They have both escaped, as well as the other Death Eaters, except for the one who was killed by that Curse.'

'Professor Dumbledore _dead_...' Neville stares at his hands on the white bedcover, a personification of misery.

'I know.'

Remus gently puts a hand on Neville's arm and they remain silent for a while. Once again I marvel at Remus's ability to make people feel better about themselves, only that skill doesn't extend to himself. Neville is turning into a cool guy, I think. On one of our first excursions together, Remus told me about the boggart class he taught in Harry's year, mentioning that Neville had been a bit of a laughing stock among the students. However, the two times I've ever met Neville, in the Department of Mysteries and yesterday during the fight, he was far from being ridiculous.

'Do you know if your grandmother has been informed that you were injured?' Remus now asks.

'Yes, she's already sent an owl that she'll be here soon.'

'Good. She can be very proud of you, Neville, and I'm sure the others will be glad to see you later.'

We say goodbye to Neville and walk over to Bill and his family. Bloody hell! My features must have slipped, because Bill's greeting smile fades when he looks at us.

'I'm not being given a mirror, but according to your faces, it must be pretty bad.'

'Let's say Mad-Eye probably will have competition!'

I mean it as a joke, but Fleur darts a scandalised look at me.

''Ow come you don't 'ave any scars, we vere wondering?' She addresses Remus rather brusquely.

'I have,' he says, caught off guard, 'just not in the face. I was bitten in the chest and flank.'

'The others told me that you guess there will be some degree of contamination, even though Greyback hadn't transformed,' Bill frowns, 'but how would I know in what way I might be contaminated? Do you _feel_ it?'

Everybody is looking expectantly at Remus now, who thinks for a moment before speaking.

'As I've already said, your case is exceptional, if not unique. There is no rule as to how being a werewolf affects your behaviour while human. I've met werewolves eager for meat, werewolves solely acting on impulse and instinct, rejecting reason on principle, or werewolves who have a compulsive need for dominance and violence. Fenrir Greyback certainly represents an extreme, there are others who would class somewhere in between in terms of wolfish characteristics. I like to think it's a psychological challenge how much you allow the wolf to run away with you, so to speak. Unfortunately you were bitten by a man who has fully embraced the beast.'

Remus runs a hand through his hair while keeping his eyes on Bill.

'Still, I'm more and more convinced that the effects of your bites will probably be small, in terms of personality, as the link to the moon is missing and you won't have the pain of transformation. This is where my symptoms come from, the temporary fatigue, the fact that I look older than my real age...that's years of transformations taking their physical toll, but I don't think you'll be affected by the moon at all.'

I can tell Remus is uncomfortable talking about these things, but does it for Bill's sake. They really like each other. The image of Remus searching for Bill's pulse comes back to me, his face ashen while kneeling in a puddle of Bill's blood.

'And ze soul?' Fleur wonders aloud, looking at Remus somewhat appraisingly, 'will eet make trouble with the soul?'

'Excuse me?!' I blurt out, glaring at her.

'It's ok,' Remus brushes my elbow and takes a deep breath. 'Being a werewolf certainly troubles the soul, I'd be the last to be able to deny that,' he says with a wry smile that makes me want to punch Fleur in her pretty face, 'but there are no generic consequences, it depends on the individual werewolf's personality and circumstances whether he or she drifts towards, say, aggression or depression. But again, as Bill is not a werewolf and therefore not...limited within wizarding society, I daresay psychological damage will be small.'

'There you are,' Arthur quickly steps in, 'there's no need to meet trouble halfway. I'm very happy to find Bill unchanged in spirit, and after what Remus has just explained, I think we needn't fear that he will.'

The conversation turns to Dumbledore again and as attention is diverted from Remus, I see his shoulders relax.

'Any news about Snape's whereabouts?' Bill asks darkly.

'Nope,' I answer, 'Harry chased him to the Hogwarts boundaries and he managed to Disapparate.'

'We should tighten security around all Order members' houses. Snape knows too much,' Bill says, 'have the others been contacted?'

I nod, 'I've sent word to Mad-Eye, asking him to alert everyone. Nobody should set foot in 12 Grimmauld Place for a while, now that the Fidelius Charm has been broken. We need to think of new safety precautions, or move headquarters altogether.'

'Most probably, everybody who knew about the location of the house now is a Secret-Keeper himself,' Arthur points out, 'but as this includes Severus Snape, it amounts to the same thing.'

The door to the hospital wing opens and Minerva McGonagall walks up the row of beds, she looks like she hasn't slept at all.

'I called at your rooms, but there was nobody, so I guessed correctly that you were all here. How are you, Bill?'

She winces ever so slightly when she sees his face, I guess he'll have to get used to it.

We briefly discuss Hogwarts, Dumbledore's funeral and if Harry can stay at the Burrow after he has come of age. Of course he can. Molly and Arthur are the most welcoming people I know. Arthur then mentions having to leave for work, which reminds me that I probably should go, too, though for sure I'm not keen. I can hear the Atrium buzz until here, and I'm knackered. Molly declares that she wants to stay at Hogwarts until later in the day and nobody even asks Fleur, because it is safely assumed she will insist on breathing the same air as her fiancé.

We say goodbye in the corridor in front of the hospital wing and I briefly think how much has changed since I was sitting here a few hours ago, alone in the dark. But just how much I don't dare to say, there hasn't been anything affirmative between us this morning in terms of affection.

'Dear me, it's late, I really need to be off. See you at the next Order meeting, you're all welcome to come to the Burrow, of course' Arthur says and hurries in the direction of the Entrance Hall.

'I will need to make arrangements for the funeral, invitations need to be out as soon as possible,' Minerva turns to leave, but then stops to look at us.

'Thank you for protecting the school and students yesterday.'

'Don't mention it,' I say.

'I wish we could have done more,' Remus adds quietly.

Now there we are, in the middle of an empty corridor, realising that no task is waiting for us anymore and that we're free to go. Which is exactly the point.

'What will you do now?' I ask Remus, 'you can't go back to the werewolves, Greyback has seen you.'

Inwardly, I recoil at the idea of that bastard ever setting his eyes on Remus again.

'True enough,' he says, and I think I notice relief in his voice. 'To be honest, I really don't know. I'll go and see Mad-Eye, lots of things need thinking about now.'

'And us? Will you think about us, too?'

'I...what would you like me to do?'

'To stop thinking and be with me'.

He is about to say something, then changes his mind. Instead, he takes a step closer and we kiss again. At length. How can such a simple touch be so profoundly beautiful?

'We should get going though,' Remus whispers and offers me his arm, my perfect gentleman, and together we stride along the corridor in a glow. Approaching the Entrance Hall, our bodies move apart, as on some silent agreement, although I continue to glow inside, oblivious to my surroundings. Which changes abruptly when we've made it to the landing of the Marble Staircase and pass a pair of girls, one of whom is suddenly shrieking and pulls her friend away from us, wand raised in defense.

'There's no need for fear,' Remus raises his empty hands and continues walking, motioning to me to do the same.

'What in Merlin's name was that about?' I ask as he quickly makes down the stairs.

'I taught her, she knows what I am,' Remus says in a strained voice, any trace of glow wiped from his face. I can tell he suddenly wants to leave the castle as quickly as possible, and sure enough, the few students scattered around the Entrance Hall, alarmed by the girl's shriek, break into loud whisper, pointing at us. Remus keeps his eyes on the floor and determinedly marches towards the oak doors and out.

'Professor Lupin, wait!'

Two boys come running after us, they look Harry's age. Remus reluctantly turns around.

'Hello, Seamus and Dean!' he says politely.

To my relief, they show no sign of panic at his sight.

'Professor, what are you doing here?'

'I fought the Death Eaters yesterday,' he answers, 'but now I'm afraid I must be off.'

'Will you come back to Hogwarts as a teacher?', the boy called Dean asks eagerly, 'you were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts we ever had...and given what's happened we really need to to learn as much as we can to be able to defend ourselves.'

'You're quite right there, Dean. However, I won't be able to teach you, for reasons of...well, you know. Practice among yourselves though, try to support and teach each other as much as you can. Take care!'

He waves at them as he continues walking and I turn to follow him, nodding to the boys, who look crestfallen.

'See? Best DADA teacher they ever had!', I mutter quietly to Remus as we walk in direction of the gates.

He doesn't answer but marches on, his expression gloomy. I slip my hand into his, but he lets go immediately.

'Not around here,' he says curtly, 'there are too many people.'

I swallow a remark, because I want to know something else.

'Will you come to my place tonight?'

'Yes, if you want me to,' he says, his features suddenly much brighter.

'Stop being polite! You can move in with all your stuff as far as I'm concerned!'

'Well, that's easy, given that…I don't have anything at the moment. My clothes are with the werewolves and it would be unwise to try and retrieve them. The rest of my belongings are in Number 12 Grimmauld Place.'

'Just bring yourself, I'll think of something.'

No need to tell him that I've been yearning to see him in some decent robes for a change.

'I'll see you tonight then.'

Smiling, Remus places a strand of hair behind my ear again. Just for a second, I press my cheek in his warm hand, and can't wait for the night to come.

**A/N: **_This is what I thought so far, but I'm not sure yet where to take this story next. Any suggestions and feedback are most welcome!_


	4. Chapter 4

I hurry along the road, the bag of clothes for Remus bounces against my right leg and thankfully distracts me from the smell of Indian takeaway emanating from the bag in my other hand. I'm as hungry as a wolf. It's been a hell of a day at the Ministry, because no matter how many people might secretely have been hoping for it, nobody thought Dumbledore could actually one day be dead. I managed to have a word with Kingsley, filling him in about the battle details and who was involved, but for the rest of the time had to avoid any Order members so as not to arouse suspicion. And now it's much later already than I had hoped. I turn into the small passage after the dry cleaner's and into the dingy backyard that I call home. Well, almost. All that Muggles can see are big rubbish bins, bikes and buckets behind a three storey building. What they can't see is the narrow fire escape ladder leading to a fourth storey, which is the flat that I took over four years ago from a Ministry Unspeakable who preferred to go rural. Mum didn't approve of the place at all, probably mainly because of the smelly backyard serving as access, but Dad completely got why it was nice to live tucked away in a busy Muggle street. No sign of Remus though, which gives me a moment to make sure the flat doesn't look like...well, like it has looked most of the past year. I drop the bags in my small hallway and immediately set to work. All discarded clothes wander into the laundry cauldron, used mugs and plates pile up in the sink. I air my bedroom and tidy the bed, my guts contracting at the idea of both of us hopefully sleeping here tonight. Although I wouldn't put it past Remus to demand to sleep on the sofa. I charm the floor clean in the other room, and just when I've thrown some Daily prophets into the bin, the doorbell rings.

'Remus Lupin awaiting entrance', the old-fashioned little pixie statue squeaks from the hallway, Mum gave me the thing when I started living on my own, because 'you never know who you open the door to these days'.

'Permitted' I shout at the pixie while checking my reflexion in the mirror. He really has come.

I open the door and there he is, standing on the landing against the evening sky, a shy smile in his tired face.

'Hello, Tonks.'

'Hello, Remus.'

I beam at him and we exchange a brief, gentle kiss that still feels a bit awkward.

'Come in.'

As he hesitantly steps inside and glances at my Weird Sisters poster, I'm suddenly embarassed by all my colourful decoration, it's very much a girl's flat and I'm not even sure I'm that girl anymore. He has taken off his shoes without asking and follows me into the living room. Since one of the flat's former occupants had a taste for interior design and several walls breached, living room, hallway and kitchen feel more like a studio, and I'm glad I've had the time to tidy up a bit.

'You've got a very nice flat,' Remus comments politely as he sits down on my blue velvet sofa, he looks odd against it in his shabby robes, but maybe that's because I generally find it odd to see him here, in my flat, after only ever having met elsewhere.

'Would you like a tea? Or a Muggle beer?'

'A Muggle beer would be great, thanks.' He leans back into the sofa with a weary sigh and watches me fetch two bottles and open them. After I have placed them on the small coffee table, he pulls me into an embrace that I'm more than willing to be pulled in. The exhaustion of the day washes over me when I bury my face in his robes and inhale deeply. He smells like freshly cut wood and I feel the warmth of his body through the rough fabric of his robes, and his cheek against my hair.

'How has your day been?' he asks quietly.

'They're in some kind of frenzy at the Ministry, like, incited and shocked at the same time.'

'I'm not surprised,' Remus says darkly and reaches for his bottle. 'They've always felt inferior to Dumbledore and Dumbledore has criticised Scrimgeour on more than one occasion. Yet one can't pretend security and control anymore when a wizard like Dumbledore is murdered. They probably fear for their own lives now, too. As they should,' he adds and there is unfamiliar harshness in his voice.

'What have you been up to?' I ask.

'I've been around Diagon Alley and at Alastor's, to see how the Order will continue after last night's events. Mad-Eye reckons that Dumbledore has left Harry with some kind of plan or mission, linked to whatever they were after, together, yesterday evening. Minerva sent an owl that Harry refused to tell her where they had gone and that apparently Dumbledore wanted it secret. I'd like to talk to Harry though, maybe there is something the Order can do to help without him having to give all the details.'

'It's rather harsh on Harry, don't you think? He's not even of age. Why would Dumbledore leave Harry alone with a task of such importance that he can't even confide in others, not even Order members? It doesn't seem very fair to me.'

'I admit I've had similar thoughts, but then, Dumbledore has never been wrong in his judgement. Until yesterday, that is. He has always, always trusted Snape.'

We are silent for a while, taking swigs from our beers and feeling our bodies press against each other for safety in the face of the enormity of Snape's betrayal.

'Well, it's worth a try. To talk to Harry, I mean. He likes you and trusts you,' I finally say.

'And I like and trust him,' Remus replies, 'though I fear I have let him down somewhat during the past year. I should have been there for him after Sirius died, but I didn't even write.'

'You were away,' I comment, rather pointedly, as I would have killed for a letter from Remus during all those months, and he seems oblivious to it.

'Yes, I was,' he says absent-mindedly, then seems to remember something and looks at me fondly, 'but now I'm back.'

'And I'm so unspeakably happy about that,' I whisper and squeeze his hand, taking in every detail of his face, his soft eyes, the shadows beneath them, the light stubble on his hollow cheeks and his mouth which I've always thought so sensitive.

'Nymphadora...' he says hoarsely. For once, I swallow a remark, because the look on his face is close to adoration. On an impulse, I sit astride on his lap, take his face into my hands and kiss him exactly the way they do in the cheesy Muggle movies I got to watch with Granny Tonks when I was a kid. He is startled for a moment, but then puts his warm hands around my waist and we're diving into that kiss together. But when my mouth starts wandering down his neck I can feel him tense and he holds me back.

'What is it?' I ask, slightly out of breath.

'It's just...I haven't had a shower for a while and I don't want..well, I'd prefer...' he stammers.

'Alright then. Might be a good idea for me too, actually. The bathroom is down the hallway, and oh, I got extra clothes for you! They're over here...'

I scramble off his lap and draw a big bundle from the bag.

'We've got several cupboards of stuff for disguise at the Auror office. I hope they're your size?' I ask and throw him the whole bundle.

'They look perfect,' he replies, feeling through the shirts and robes with an odd expression on his face, 'won't they be missed, though?'

'Nobody keeps track, especially not these days. I can always return them once you get your own stuff back. Just put the ones you're wearing in the cauldron in the bathroom, if you want. And there's a stack of towels on the shelf above the door, help yourself.'

Remus disappears into the bathroom and I hear the running water of the shower while I distribute the takeway curry on two plates. I have to suppress a giggle when I imagine how someone looking through my window at this very moment would have to assume that he is watching a couple's ordinary night after a working day. If Remus now comes walking out of the shower, only wearing a towel, and asks me what's for dinner, I'll go into hysterics. Of course, he does no such thing and exits my bathroom dressed in dark jeans and a white button-down shirt that suits him exceedingly well. The moistness in his hair makes the grey less pronounced and the Remus I see before me looks a good deal younger than I've ever seen him.

'Thank you for organising the clothes,' he says, looking down his own front, 'I feel rather...spruce.'

I snigger at his choice of expression, 'you should keep them, they're a lot more becoming than your patchy gear!'

It's out before I know it and I immediately want to smack myself with the ladle when I see the smile on his face crumble away.

'I'm sorry, Remus. That was a stupid thing for me to say.'

'You're probably right, though,' he shrugs and I blame myself for the stony expression that has replaced the open features of just seconds ago.

'Look, it doesn't matter. My brain is abnormally tired and the area responsible for decency is always the one to go to sleep first. What you just heard was its snoring.'

Remus chuckles and approaches the kitchen counter where I've set the curry plates steaming.

'This smells delicicious.'

Relieved, I carry the plates over to the sofa.

'It's my favourite curry from a place down the road. One of the reasons I quite like living in Muggle London.'

After we have devoured the curry and emptied our beers, Remus yawns and lets himself fall sideways against the cushions.

'Thank you for the food. I'm afraid I won't be able to keep my eyes open much longer. Do you want me to stay on the sofa?'

Is he kidding me?

'Are you kidding me?'

'Well, I thought -'

'Yeah, just stop that thinking of yours and get yourself up and to my bedroom. Please,' I add and bury my fingers in his still damp hair, 'I'll have a shower, too, will be with you in a minute.'

**A/N:** _As always, feedback is most welcome!_


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